


But the boss won't seem to let me

by punkphantom



Series: projecting my ace subtype on Jon [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Dom Martin Blackwood, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, M/M, Morning Sex, Orgasm Control, Rough Oral Sex, Sub Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Teasing, Vibrators, a bit - Freeform, again just a bit, negotiation happens off-screen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkphantom/pseuds/punkphantom
Summary: He looks at Jon, holding him still by his hair as he casually examines his face. Jon looks back, expectantly. He could tell him no. Tell him he’s not allowed to come until the evening. Or he could give him permission, and stay to watch as Jon works himself up and over the brink.“Yes,” he finally says, and Jon smiles, “but you’ll do it on my terms.”Jon thinks he can make it through an entire day without giving in to Martin's teasing. Martin's determined to make him beg.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: projecting my ace subtype on Jon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094627
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	But the boss won't seem to let me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is from Dolly Parton's 9 to 5. (Y'all have no idea how hard it was to pick between this and "for service and devotion" lmao)
> 
> The exhibitionism tag is for later chapters, where they're alone and they know no one will interrupt but it's still technically in a public place. Rough oral sex is in the first chapter, but I feel like it's more not-gentle than actually rough? Idk I tagged it just in case.

Martin wakes up before the alarm, blinking his eyes open to see the dawn-grey of the room. A bit of Jon’s hair is in his mouth from where they fell asleep curled up together. He shifts back, trying to get out of range of Jon’s bedhead laid out across the pillows, but that makes his hips shift forward slightly, pressing against Jon. _Oh._

He tries to scooch away slightly, but Jon makes a muffled noise of protest and follows, shifting his hips back. He pauses when he comes in contact with Martin’s erection, hesitating, before slowly and deliberately grinding back on it.

So it’s that kind of morning, then. Martin grunts softly as he shifts to lie on his back, dislodging Jon from his place, curled up against his chest. Jon makes a displeased sound and rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow. He looks blearily down at Martin. “Can I help you with that?” he says. Jon can be incredibly sweet when he’s tired. He can also be insufferably smug, and Martin tries not to roll his eyes at the small smirk on his face.

In lieu of a response, he lets his hand trail up Jon’s torso, running teasingly over the spots he knows will make him shiver, until his palm rests on the back of Jon’s head. He smiles up at Jon, and gets a softly affectionate look in return. 

Jon isn’t prepared for his head to be pushed down quite as abruptly as it is. He yelps, losing his balance as Martin mercilessly forces him down, steady and unyielding, until Jon’s lips are inches away from the tent in Martin’s boxers. The rough treatment makes him whine, but Martin ignores it.

“Go on, then.” Jon first maneuvers so he’s straddling Martin’s shins instead of being bent uncomfortably down and to the side, and Martin lets out an exasperated sigh at the delay, giving Jon’s hair a sharp tug. “Get to work, slut. I don’t have all day.”

“Yes sir,” Jon breathes, as he frees Martin’s cock from the boxers. Martin is pushing him down again before he can say anything else, and this time Jon takes him obediently in his mouth, sucking softly at the tip. 

Martin orders him to put his hands behind his back and he does, grabbing his wrist with his other hand and looking up through his eyelashes for approval. There’s none there, but the look of bliss on Martin’s face is far better. 

Jon isn’t permitted to set the pace this morning. Sometimes he is, and he can take his time, relishing in the wrecked noises he pulls from Martin. Today is far more utilitarian. Martin palms the back of Jon’s head, digs his fingers into the perpetually-tense muscles at the base of his skull just to hear him moan. He uses Jon’s head as a handhold, moving his mouth up and down his cock like a toy.

Jon does his best not to gag when he’s forced to take Martin deeper into his throat, but it’s a losing battle. He hollows his cheeks, runs his tongue along the underside of Martin’s cock as he looks pitifully up at Martin’s face. Martin just keeps moving him, without regard to the way Jon’s eyes water, the soft choking noises he makes with every downward motion. It’s not too long before he comes with a groan, and Jon dutifully swallows it down.

He lets himself fall to the side, rolling into his back, and he closes his eyes while Martin runs a gentle hand through his hair. 

“Good boy.”

“Thank you sir.” Jon takes a deep breath. “May I get off, please, sir?” 

Martin hums, slightly surprised that Jon’s asking. He doesn’t, always. His libido is inconsistent, sometimes ebbing for weeks at a time before returning in full force. Other times, he just isn’t in the mood for denial, and Martin doesn’t push him about it if they haven't negotiated. 

He looks at Jon, holding him still by his hair as he casually examines his face. Jon looks back, expectantly. He could tell him no. Tell him he’s not allowed to come until the evening. Or he could give him permission, and stay to watch as Jon works himself up and over the brink. 

“Yes,” he finally says, and Jon smiles, “but you’ll do it on my terms.”

Jon barely suppresses a frustrated groan at that. It’s not exactly the best idea to mouth off to someone with the power to revoke your right to an orgasm. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” He lets go of Jon’s hair and crosses to where they keep their toys. “I want to do what we discussed last week,” he says, turning back to Jon with a remote controlled vibrator in his hand. 

Jon’s mouth waters. “Okay,” he breathes, eyes fixed on the toy. He stands, crossing to Martin.

Martin hands him the toy and a bottle of lube, giving his arse a squeeze as he turns to go to the bathroom. Jon squeaks indignantly. “You have until the alarm goes off. Then I want you back here.”

Jon glances at the clock. Five minutes, give or take. Enough time to obey, not enough for him to get off. “Yes sir.” He doesn’t wait for Martin to dismiss him before rushing to the bathroom to put the toy in, and Martin huffs a quiet laugh at his hasty retreat. 

When Jon returns, there’s an outfit laid out for him on the bed, and Martin is buttoning his shirt. He glances up when Jon enters. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out for coffee before work.” 

Jon blushes. It’s always the little things about their arrangement that get to him. The way Martin simply makes decisions for him, so he doesn’t have to worry about minutiae like what to wear or what to have for breakfast. The easy, confident cadence to his voice when he gives Jon an order. “Yes sir.” 

He’s just pulled his jumper over his shirt when sensation shoots through him, and he crumples slightly with a cry. It stops then, just as quickly as it began. He looks at Martin with wide eyes, then at the remote in his hand. 

Martin smiles. “Just checking.” He hefts his bag over his shoulder, looking expectantly at Jon. “Ready? We should go soon.”

“But I haven’t-” Martin gives him a significant look, and Jon hesitates. He can feel the need simmering in his gut, but he’s not desperate for relief - at least, not yet. Best not to challenge Martin’s unspoken command. “Yes sir, I just need to put my shoes on.” 

“Lovely.” Martin beams. “Remember, no titles in public.” 

Jon nods. “Yes, Martin.”

“Good boy.” He steps aside to let Jon leave the room first before following, grinning where Jon can't see him. It’s going to be a very good day.

—

Jon is always quieter like this. Possibly shyer, as well, Martin thinks, noting how Jon keeps his eyes lowered rather than make eye contact with the people walking the other way. He sticks to Martin’s side like glue as they walk together to the coffee shop, holding onto Martin’s hand like it’s an anchor. 

Martin orders for him. It’s not difficult - Jon gets the same drink every time he comes here - but it still sends a little thrill through him. When they’re sat across from each other in a little corner booth, Jon speaks up.

“You’re very…” he pauses to find a good word. “Gentlemanly,” he settles on. “Like this.” Martin sets his tea down, a look of slight concern in his eyes.

“Is it too much? Do you want me to tone it down a little?” 

Jon shakes his head. “It’s nice,” he says. “It makes me feel... protected, I suppose?” 

“Well, good,” Martin says, taking another sip. “You know I like to make sure you’re _taken care_ of.” He lifts his eyebrows, and Jon flushes at the insinuation.

“Yes Martin.” They go back to sipping their drinks, neither mentioning the remote in Martin’s pocket. There will be time for that later.


End file.
